The Alpha's Female
by Mystique-Fairy
Summary: A unexpected prophecy has Hermione's life turned upside down, with a few surprising twists and turns.
1. Chapter 1

**Official Story And Future Stories Disclaimer**: I don't own any recognisable characters. All recognisable characters belong to the author of the books, they are located within the contents of. I only own the OC characters that may crop up i.e the none-recognisable to said books or movies. :)

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Hermione Granger felt like this was the longest walk of her life. She had been summoned—alone—to the Headmaster's office in the dead of the night. As they walked the dark halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she could not help but remark upon the eerie shadows that were cast upon the ancient walls by their dim wand lights.

Stern as ever, Professor McGonagall walked a few steps ahead, leaving Hermione to her racing thoughts. The first week of her fifth year had been a dismal failure, judging by the current state of affairs. What could she have possibly done to warrant this kind of action, whatever it may be.

She feared the only reason for a midnight rendezvous with Dumbledore could only involve something quite horrid—maybe even expulsion. But she had yet to work out what she would be expelled for.

Professor McGonagall refused to tell her anything. In fact, she appeared almost speechless, and spoke no more than one or two words at a time when she even deigned to speak at all. Though the normally well-composed woman may not be aware of it, her disgust and disapproval over whatever was going on were as clear as day.

When they finally reached the impressive stone gargoyle which marked the entrance to the Headmaster's office, McGonagall's voice was cold and hard as she spoke the password. The golden statue slid open to reveal the spiraling staircase beyond, and Hermione hesitated for a moment before moving forward.

She ran through everything that she and her two troublesome best friends had done lately, wondering if any of them might be the cause of this visit. But if Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were involved, why had they not been summoned here with her?

Seeing that her pupil was no longer right on her heels, McGonagall motioned for Hermione to join her without even turning to meet the girl's questioning gaze. Hermione took a wary step onto the first step, then began to make her way up to join the older woman inside the belly of the statue itself.

The two came to a halt at the top of the stairs and faced the ancient, curving door that led to the secrets held within. Now Hermione's stomach was turning somersaults as her Professor did not even bother to knock, but marched right in just as if she, herself, were in charge of the castle and school.

Hermione followed reluctantly in her wake, entering the round, intriguing office filled with its strange assortment of oddities. Harry often told her of the unique instruments and random objects to be found inside, but this was her first time actually seeing them herself.

Pictures of former Headmasters and Mistresses littered the wall near the entrance, each of them facing the impressive, curving desk of the current Headmaster himself.

"Here is Miss Granger, as per your request, Headmaster," McGonagall announced through tight lips.

Hermione was shocked. She had never heard such anger from the Head of her House directed at the Headmaster. The two usually seemed to be in perfect union, with never a hint of contention between them. Now Dumbledore peered over his half-moon spectacles, his brows raised, at the woman who had just addressed him.

"Thank you, Minerva," he said in stern tones, his normally sparkly blue eyes seeming to have been snuffed out like a pair of candles set out in a thunderstorm. Minerva crossed her arms and looked over at her student as the Headmaster next turned his focus on her.

"My apologies for calling you from you bed at such an hour, Miss Granger," he said. "But an important matter has just come to light, and I felt it must be dealt with immediately."

"Yes, sir, Professor Dumbledore," Hermione said nervously. "I understand."

Both Dumbledore and Hermione turned to the sound of a derisive snort from the Gryffindor Head of House as she began to tap an impatient foot. Hermione gazed at her in shock, while Dumbledore's glance was much more annoyed.

"Professor McGonagall, if you cannot be professional in this matter then I suggest you leave," he said pointedly.

"I am sorry, Headmaster, but I believe you are well aware of my views in this matter," she said, her head held high. "I am almost certain that Miss Granger will feel the same, considering who is the root cause for this clandestine meeting."

"That will do, Minerva," he insisted. "We are losing precious time with such petty disagreements. Our guests will be here shortly, and we must have time to prepare Miss Granger."

The pair of them seemed to have some kind of silent showdown after this. Hermione felt like she was watching a Muggle tennis match as she watched, her head swiveling from side to side. Finally, she decided to remind them of her presence in the room.

"Excuse me, Professors, but you have yet to tell me why I am here," she said. "Have I done something wrong?"

As she spoke, Professor Snape suddenly stepped out of the fireplace, gaining the two Professor's attention instead. Hermione puffed up her cheeks in frustration and waited to see if he would add anything meaningful to the events currently unfolding so slowly before her eyes.

"Ah, Severus, you're just in time, as always," Dumbledore said, his voice resounding in its usually calmer tone. "We were just about to inform Miss Granger about the state of things."

Snape's lip curled in a snide smirk as he took in their expressions. "Oh my," he said darkly. "Has something ruffled your fur, McGonagall?"

Hermione marveled again at how Snape could sound so patronizing and yet wear such a nasty smirk all at the same time. McGonagall's stance tensed as if she were ready to strike back. Her disgust for the Head of Slytherin House shown clearly upon her face.

"Will someone please tell me what is going on?" Hermione demanded before any one of them could say another word. "I still don't even know why I'm here. Unless, of course, I'm not really here. Maybe I'm just having a bloody nightmare."

"Ah, yes, I do apologize, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, as if he only just remembered she was waiting. "I am afraid another prophecy has been brought to our attention."

"Prophecy?" she repeated, raising her brows. "Why tell me about a prophecy?"

She had a sinking fear that she already knew. All heads turned to the Head of Slytherin House. Snape snorted and rolled his eyes. "And you're supposed to be the smartest witch of your age?" he scoffed. "Sure shows what direction the youth of today are headed, doesn't it?"

"Did he really have to be here, Albus?" Minerva asked as she jerked her chin in her rival's direction.

"Professor Snape will play a key role in greeting one of our guests," Albus said.

Minerva cringed. "I still can't believe it," she muttered. "How can you be sure this prophecy is even true? You know what a crackpot Trelawney is."

"Wait a minute," Hermione gasped as McGonagall's words sunk in. "Professor Dumbledore, are you seriously going to listen to a woman who keeps predicting Harry's death every bloody chance she gets?"

"I told you, Albus," said Minerva with a satisfied smile. Hermione spared the woman a brief glance before turning to the Headmaster with pleading eyes, hoping that she had guessed completely wrong.

"I wish it were that simple, Miss Granger, but I am afraid Sybill's most recent encounter with her seer side has picked the path for someone other than Harry Potter," he answered as a bit of the light returned to his eyes. "You, Miss Granger."

"I'm no chosen one, Professor," Hermione protested. "What could she possibly have had to say about me?"

"The problem is not with what, but with whom," Minerva interjected.

Dumbledore shot the woman a look of warning as he said, "That will do, Minerva."

"The werewolves are not that bad, despite all the rumours the gossip hounds spread about them." Professor Snape said.

Hermione glanced over at Snape, noticing his smirk get bigger than ever as he observed the drama being played out before him.

"Just because you are mated to one does not mean we all approve," McGonagall snapped.

Hermione's jaw dropped, and if looks could kill the one Snape shot the woman he would have left her as ashes at his feet. If the pair of them had been alone, Hermione was convinced Snape would have Crucioed her—or worse, maybe even killed the Head of Gryffindor House.

"You'll pay for that," he informed her, his voice cold as stone.

"Enough!" Dumbledore roared as he slammed his hands down onto his desk with surprising force just as Snape was about to draw his wand. McGonagall stood her ground, but she nearly jumped out of her skin as she did so. Snape's eyes snapped back to Dumbledore and the matter at hand.

"Minerva, that was out of line," Dumbledore said. "But Severus, you brought it upon yourself. Stop taunting the woman if you don't wish for such information concerning your private life to slip out in front of a student. Even if she is one who could soon be a part of the same circle as yourself."

"That's it!" Hermione half growled and half yelled at them. "I'm tired and I want to go back to bed and pretend this really is one big misunderstanding revolving in my nightmare. Would somebody please just tell me what the bloody hell is going on? So I can get back to sleep."

All three professors stared at her in shock.

"Well, you may as well forget that idea," said a new voice full of authority from the vicinity of the fireplace. "You won't be returning to your bed any time soon."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Hermione spun around, ready to demand _who the hell did this person think he was? _But instead, she found her eyes locked with a pair of midnight orbs, unable to tear herself free from said gaze. Much as she wanted to, her body would not cooperate with the more reasonable side of her brain, which was screaming for her to turn away.

Her limbs began to shake with the effort to move, yet still she remained frozen. As silly as the notion seemed, she had the inexplicable feeling that her soul was being tied to the stranger's soul. As silly as it sounded, the thought persisted. She envisioned him as a cowboy who lassoed her with a rope, much as if she were a steer or a horse, and now he was shortening the rope to draw her tightly against him, and once she was there he intended to never let her go.

The strangest part was, Hermione's wayward response was a yearning for him to do just that. She had not yet fully acknowledged his presence, and yet she wanted him never to leave. Her brain screamed: NO! NO! NO! Turn away now! while another part—a mute, silent part-allowed the tornado of emotions to continue their mad rush all through her body.

Suddenly, Hermione felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her, as someone else in the room cleared their throat, breaking their connection and causing her to blink in surprise. Any normal person would have been scared beyond reason when the owner of the arms now locked around her snarled possessively and held her even more firmly to him in response.

He was warm, and the muscles of his arms and chest were well-toned. Her heart began to race at the feel of him, and she barely even flinched when something in the background shattered in response to his voice.

"Fools," came the snarky voice of her Potions Professor. "It's not as if you didn't know a werewolf would soon be here."

"Enough!" barked the stranger with an air of command.

Hermione felt dazed, like she was walking at the edge of a dream. Perhaps that was it? Was this still the strange dream she'd been wondering if she was having? He continued, "Your seer was obviously correct, as you can see. And I will be leaving now with my woman. You will have no further contact with her save through Professor Snape, if he remains willing to inform you of her progress."

Hermione felt as if her entire world was spinning, the tornado she'd sensed before becoming more obvious within her field of vision. Something invisible reached out to her, almost a caress, and she reached out to grab onto it as if her life depended upon it. Inside her mind, she heard a small whisper calling out to her, growing louder the more she strained to hear it.

A strangled laugh escaped her lips—a laugh she did not even recognize. It sounded far away, and she began to wonder if she was losing her mind and had begun talking to herself.

[Fenrir, _italics. _Hermione, normal]

_NO! You must not dare to leave me, mine! I have only just found you, after all these years. I will not let you go now!_

I just want to sleep, Hermione answered the commanding, powerful voice she heard inside her head. If I can just go to sleep, perhaps I will wake in the morning and find that all of this was just a dream.

_Keep your eyes open and focus on me. I'm taking you home!_

Hermione's head spun wildly as she tried to look at the man who held her. But I am home, she tried to tell him, and suddenly went limp in his arms.

Fenrir growled furiously. He could feel his connection to his newly discovered mate grow dim—that was the only way to describe it—and at the same time realized in shocked wonder just how strong the bond actually was. He had never heard of an instant connection between two partied before this—but then again, this was the first time such a bond had been mentioned in a prophecy, either.

Glaring at the three professors, he hissed angrily, "This is all your faults."

He lifted Hermione into his arms, bride-like. Her body hung as limp as a ragdoll against his ample chest.

It was then that Severus saw the other man standing with Fenrir, and rolled his eyes.

"Mine?" he inquired indignantly. The only reason he put up with this man at all was because of the Dark Lord's meddling in his own affairs. It was Voldemort who had decided a better punishment than a simple Cruciatus curse would be to give him to his beta, Antonio. That dominating man had worn down Snape's resistance over the past half a year, much to the potions professor's surprise and chagrin. But to see him standing here now was disconcerting, to say the least. He had agreed to stay away from Hogwarts, yet now here he stood.

Dumbledore watched speculatively, and said only, "Fascinating."

The only woman in the room—other than those in the portraits, that was—stared at him with tight-lipped disdain until her rival had spoken. Now her ire was clearly directed at him instead.

Fenrir Greyback growled in warning, unwilling to take part in any of the bickering he had happened upon when he arrived. He could see fifty million questions flashing in the old Headmaster's eyes, and he did not wish to answer even one of them.

"I will say this once, and once only," he spat out as he glanced over at Snape and nodded his thanks that the man had forewarned him of the discussion which he'd be likely to happen upon. "I am well aware of your seer's prophecy—and it is quite clear that she at least got the part about my mate right, by the look of it. It is certain that the rest of her vision will also unfold in due time, if they prove to remain true. I would have taken the girl regardless, willing or not, for she is mine. She will be the alpha female of my pack, and only my most trusted men will be allowed near her. Not even Snape will enjoy that distinction."

Antonio stiffened at the slight, and Fenrir hissed in warning before he should try to protest for his mate. Snape was a spy, and loyal to Dumbledore more than he was to either of them. Dumbledore would wish to use him to spy on Hermione as well, he was sure. Fenrir had other plans for Hermione and himself, and he did not need those plans to be disrupted by nosy, sneaky witches or wizards.

With one last, hard look at those assembled, Fenrir made a half-turn and Apparated away. Stunned silence followed his retreat. Two more pops sounded, and Fenrir knew that his beta and his mate had followed. Glancing briefly behind him, he saw the scowl on Snape's face. Clearly he'd been manhandled, and had been unprepared for the sudden departure.

"If I may be so bold as to ask," said the man in snarky tones. "What now—my Lord?"

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**Thank you's**: cosmoGirl66, LiesTemptHer, (TheHappiestSaddest - totally agree :D) Arial Wolf, APeaceOfPie4Everybody011, colao, KEZZ 1, articcat621, (Guest), miss-hyperness, Hanable-13, MandsT, Sarcastic-BlackRose

I would also like to thank my beta, for the speedy returns of chapters, and fabulous work on fixing the spelling/grammar in my chapters!

M. Fairy


	3. Chapter 3

I will be posting short or long chapters. It's a mix/match story, with a flow of continuous updates, to keep you all posted regularly and upto date. Instead of squishing it into one long chapter.

Thank you's: KEZZ 1, Sarcastic-BlackRose, Hanable-13, Niki Vin, Arial Wolf, MissMaryLiz, Lalina92, TheHappiestSaddest, xMusicGurlx, bma925 :)

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Chapter Three

"Well, that's not something you see every day," said Dumbledore to break the tension left behind after the werewolves had departed with his Potions Professor and one third of the Golden Trio in tow.

"Indeed," Minerva replied coldly. Her face remained tight-lipped, but the reality of the situation seemed to have sunk in, for now her eyes were rounded with shock as well. "Gryffindor House has lost its most prized student today."

"Oh, come now, Minerva," Albus admonished her. "Even you cannot deny that what has just transpired was inevitable. Surely after bearing witness to their meeting, you cannot hope to convince me that Hermione had any chance of escaping this fate."

"Obviously," she conceded with ill grace. Dumbledore did a very un-Dumbledore-like thing and rolled his eyes before peering up at her over the top of his spectacles. "Very well, if you must have another word to go with it, then I'll add sir, if you like."

Bemused, Dumbledore added in a most unprofessional tone, "Come off it, Minni. We just witnessed something that is extremely rare. Miss Granger is set to do big things for those wolves and their dwelling. Only think, she is a walking, talking dictionary, and she has often been employed by her friends to help them get out of doing their homework."

"What has one to do with the other?" she wanted to know.

"Well, from Ron and Harry's end of things, they'll have to learn to cope on their own, without her, or else they will fall," he pointed out. "In a sense, Hermione has been the Alpha for them all this time. Now, she is destined to be the Alpha female of a much bigger and much more challenging pack."

Now it was Minerva's turn to roll her eyes and stare. "Hmph!" she grunted irritably. "I still do not agree with it, Albus. Hermione is just a girl; she's hardly ready for such a monumental task."

"No, Minerva, Miss Granger is not quite a girl any longer," Albus corrected her. "I think you have forgotten the small detail that she has been making use of a time-turner frequently over the past few years."

The woman's face contorted into various different expressions as she digested what the Headmaster was telling her. Finally, the confusion cleared away and she gave a little gasp. "You mean—"

"Yes, Minerva," said Albus as his lips twitched in a battle to hold a smirk in check. "Hermione has aged one year since she started to use her time-turner during her third year. Which would make young Hermione an adult by the Wizarding laws, at least. And do not forget, she was more mature than her classmates to begin with, having celebrated her twelfth birthday shortly after her arrival."

"But Albus, you've literally thrown her to the wolves," she protested. "Much as I hate Severus Snape, I did not even think he deserved that fate, let alone a young woman who has yet to graduate from this school."

Minerva shuddered as she thought of the plight of Professor Snape. Not only to be given to a wolf, but to the man she'd seen today. He was strong and handsome, and she could not understand why such a man would wish to mate with the insufferable, irritating, frustrating bane of her existence. Why would anyone at all wish to become the mate of such a man?

"As far as Snape is concerned, that was indeed an unexpected twist of events," Dumbledore agreed. "I am almost certain that Tom was not prepared for the outcome that came of the punishment he gave Severus in the end."

"Well, now that all the fuss is over, I am calling it a night," Minerva said then, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn. "I hope to wake from this dreadful nightmare and find everything just as it was yesterday morning."

Dumbledore shot her a discerning glance. "Professor McGonagall, surely you know that nothing is ever the same as it was the day before."

Casting him a stony glare, Minerva raised one brow above the other as she ground out, "Good night, Headmaster."

"Pleasant dreams, Professor," he answered, no longer able to hold his smirk in check as the woman turned on her heel and stalked away.

As she walked briskly through the halls on the way to her bed, Minerva mulled over what had just happened in bitter silence. She just couldn't seem to wrap her mind around the idea that Hermione Granger was no longer tucked safely in her bed, but was even now in the clutches of some savage werewolf bent on taking her for his mate.

Certainly she was not against werewolves in general, nor did she have any problems with the idea that Severus Snape's private life had become much more colorful than it once had been. It just hadn't seemed like a reality to her until today, when she had seen his mate Disapparate away with the man. There could no longer be any doubt in her mind concerning that matter.

Perhaps she just needed a good night's sleep. She was going to need it once Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley realized their best friend had gone missing. Hermione had always been the glue that held that particular trio together; the one who had kept them on their toes. And now she was gone.

For his part, Dumbledore was also quite tired after the evening's adventure. With a heavy sigh, he ambled up the staircase behind his desk, not even bothering to bid the portraits a pleasant evening.

In his private quarters he prepared for bed and sank gratefully into the mattress, his thoughts as deep and profound as always. He had hoped to speak to Severus at great length, but he'd lost his spy for the night, at the very least.

He knew that the man had not gone willingly with Antonio, and had only reluctantly accepted the wolf as his lover when he'd found no way to fight it any longer. The pair seemed to have a tenuous truce now, but it had been won only after that battle had died down.

As for Hermione, Albus could only hope he had not treated her too harshly by putting up no resistance on her behalf. He had a sinking feeling that Greyback's words would prove true. It was likely they would not set eyes on Miss Granger for a very long while, not until her new mate felt she was ready—or he was ready to share her.

He wished the young woman the best of luck. And he did not look forward to facing her two young male companions in the morning.


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you for all the reviews, alerts and favourite's to chapter 3 :-)

- This is just a little insight to Fenrir's mind...

Chapter Four

As Fenrir came out of the Apparation and stepped forward, all eyes fell upon the girl in his arms. He glared imperiously at every member of his pack and stormed into his chambers without a word.

"Out, all of you!" he roared at the servants waiting there. "Leave us, and do not return unless I call for you.."

Hermione stirred in his arms, and he winced. Perhaps he should not have been quite so forceful, he thought regretfully. He had not wanted to disturb her.

Luckily, the girl did not wake, for he was unsure how she would react to him and her new surroundings when she did. After all, she was far, far away from her old home, in an unknown part of the Scottish countryside which had been built into the hills by his ancestors. The ancient dwelling of his kind was peaceful—away from any scrutiny from judgmental Muggles or Wizards alike.

All Hermione would need to do was take one look at the cold stone walls to realize how much different this place was from any she had ever known. He wanted to have her tucked inside the warm cocoon of the king-sized, fur-heavy wooden bed which was encased inside curtains before her eyes fluttered open.

Once he'd laid her down the first thing Fenrir did was pull off that horrible Wizarding robe and threw the offensive material onto the cold, hard stone floor. The thing had done nothing for her figure, apparently. Fenrir happily took in every delectable curve of his new mate's body, his fingers itching to explore. But he did not wish to indulge himself while she was not awake, for he wished to see her reactions to his touch.

After about an hour of staring, Fenrir could no longer ignore the cravings of closeness, and allowed himself to lay beside her on his bed—their bed, he should say. Yes, this was now their bed, he thought as he forced himself to keep his more animalistic urges in check. He breathed evenly, forcing himself to calmly process the events of the day. One hand idly stroked Hermione's shoulder as seconds turned to minutes, and minutes turned to hours. Finally, he curled up to his mate and folded her into a protective embrace.

"Mine," he whispered into her hair, smiling to himself.

Fenrir hated the fact that Hermione was not a werewolf. He was supposed to mate with a wolf, much like a pureblood Wizard was expected to mate with one of his own kind. True, he had turned many people to werewolves himself, but he had been born a wolf, and he was proud of it. Those he had turned had either been employed by that old snakeface, Voldemort, or they'd been trespassing in realms where they did not belong. In other words, he'd considered them nothing more than inconvenient—they were not truly of his kind.

He took only the best of them into his pack, giving them as mates to those he desired to reward. These creatures were considered as little more than slaves—including that arrogant Wizard, Severus Snape. He still could not understand his beta's fascination with that particular individual, though he enjoyed the fact that Snape's placement with him truly seemed to rankle.

The loyalties of that Wizard were constantly under question, of course. He seemed to serve three masters all at the same time. Voldemort, of course, was his first lord, and certainly a Wizard to be reckoned with. And then, when he'd become a member of Fenrir's pack he was forced to profess his loyalty to him. But Fenrir would be foolish, indeed, not to see how loyal he was to Albus Dumbledore as well. A man with so many masters definitely beared watching.

Fenrir liked to think of himself as a fair leader—a king among the wolves. He tried to do right by every person whose life was pledged to him, and Hermione would be no exception despite what the meddling Wizards liked to believe. In fact, as his mate, she would be treated like a queen.

Of course, he could not blame people for thinking so lowly of him. In the outside world, he disguised himself as an unkempt, homeless man, so no one could guess at his true nature. The façade was something he'd dreamed up in his younger years, and it had changed over the centuries to match the current times. Even the Wizards did not realize the truth, for among them he pretended to be a sixty-seven year old wolf bent only on doing the Dark Lord's bidding. They would never guess at his true nature.

At least, that was what his life had been up until now. But, if the prophecy held true, all of that was about to change. Because of the woman he now held in his arms, his efforts at secrecy might soon come to nothing. For her, he would willingly shed every façade, so that she would not be repulsed by them. He would show her his true self, the self he had not even shown himself in quite some time.

With a conscious effort, Fenrir changed his features now, so that when she awakened he would not frighten her away. The last thing he wanted was for Hermione to run screaming from his bed in absolute terror—though of course it was very possible she'd do it no matter what he looked like at the time.

This thought both amused and concerned him. He remembered how he'd willed her to come to him, and she had done just that. This was partly due to the mating call he knew she must answer, but he liked to think she'd come of her own accord as he'd held her gaze with his.

He was going to have to make some changes around here to accommodate his woman, Fenrir knew. The women would need to be more decently clothed to cater to her likely sensibilities. The males would also need to cover themselves as well, and behave with more civility, at least in her presence.

And the mating ceremony needed to be sorted out. Including Hermione's change—that was one topic that would make for an interesting conversation. He doubted her reaction to the thought of being changed to a werewolf would be favorable.

Yes, that was something he'd need to get out of the way first. Perhaps even as soon as she awakened. He considered momentarily the thought of biting her now, eliminating the possibility of her refusal entirely, but he knew that he would not. He wanted to see the reaction in her eyes.

- Uh oh. Hermione's in for a shocker lol.


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